Chapter 7 - Orchard Lane
The Orchard Lane farmhouse no longer belonged to them.
Mercer Group had purchased the entire parcel six years earlier as part of a planned redevelopment project that never happened.
That made the name suddenly obvious.
Orchard Redevelopment LLC.
The company Sarah had warned him about had been created to acquire the property where she and David once lived.
At 10:30 that night, David parked two streets away.
Rebecca had told him not to go.
Detective Ortiz had told him not to go.
Sarah had explicitly told him not to go.
David went anyway.
It was another mistake.
He approached on foot through wet grass.
The old farmhouse stood dark behind bare trees.
Memory attacked him in fragments.
Sarah painting the kitchen yellow.
Mia’s first ultrasound photograph on the refrigerator.
David building a crib badly enough that Sarah had made him start again.
The years before Mercer Group consumed every dinner, vacation, and argument.
He reached the back porch.
A light came on behind him.
“Going somewhere?”
David turned.
A man stepped from a parked SUV.
Mercer corporate security.
Then another.
Julian appeared from the shadows wearing a dark coat.
“I told you that you act before thinking.”
David’s pulse pounded.
“You’re surveilling this property.”
“I own it.”
“Mercer Group owns it.”
“At the moment, same difference.”
“What did you do with Sarah?”
Julian looked tired.
“You still think this is about Sarah.”
“My wife is hiding.”
“Your wife stole corporate records and threatened to turn them over to federal prosecutors.”
“So you admit the records are real.”
“I admit Sarah believes they are.”
David stepped toward him.
“Why did Nolan move her car?”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“Nolan panicked.”
“About what?”
“You.”
David stopped.
Julian looked toward the farmhouse.
“Five years ago you transferred six million dollars without board authorization.”
“To save Harbor Point.”
“You falsified the internal purpose code.”
David said nothing.
“You remember now.”
“I repaid it.”
“That doesn’t erase the record.”
“You covered it.”
“I protected you.”
“You used it.”
Julian smiled faintly.
“Those two things are not mutually exclusive.”
David wanted to hit him.
He realized Julian wanted that too.
The security men were watching.
Cameras probably were.
David kept his hands at his sides.
Julian seemed disappointed.
“Sarah finally taught you restraint.”
“Where is the evidence?”
“If I knew, we wouldn’t be standing in the rain.”
David glanced at the house.
“So you searched it.”
“Repeatedly.”
“Then why watch it?”
“Because Sarah is sentimental.”
David hated how well Julian knew her.
Julian stepped closer.
“Go home, David.”
“To what?”
“Your children, while you still have unsupervised access to them.”
The threat landed cleanly.
“You leaked the video.”
“I didn’t need to. Your daughter’s phone backed everything to your family cloud account.”
David froze.
Julian smiled.
“Who administers your technology?”
Mercer Group IT.
David felt sick.
“You accessed my child’s account.”
“I didn’t say I did.”
“You just told me how it happened.”
Julian shrugged.
“Prove it.”
Headlights appeared at the end of the lane.
Detective Ortiz.
David had told her where he was going only after he was already driving.
She exited her car.
Julian sighed.
“Always an audience.”
Ortiz approached.
“Mr. Mercer, step away from your brother.”
“Which one?” Julian asked dryly.
She ignored him.
David looked toward the farmhouse.
“I need five minutes inside.”
“No.”
“There may be evidence.”
“Then we get a warrant.”
Julian spread his hands.
“Officer, I consent to a search of corporate property.”
Ortiz stared at him.
“That generosity makes me nervous.”
They entered together.
The farmhouse had been stripped nearly bare.
Sarah’s old kitchen was covered in dust.
Upstairs, the room that had once been Mia’s nursery contained only an old dresser.
David remembered buying it at a flea market.
He opened the top drawer.
Empty.
Second.
Empty.
Third.
Stuck.
He pulled harder.
The drawer came free.
Taped beneath it was a blue envelope.
Julian moved.
Ortiz blocked him.
“Don’t.”
David removed the envelope.
Inside was a brass safe-deposit-box card.
FIRST STATE PRIVATE BANK.
BOX 214.
And a handwritten note from Sarah.
If you found this, you finally stopped listening to everyone telling you where not to look.
David almost smiled despite everything.
Then he saw the final line.
Box access: Rebecca Stone.
Rebecca had known.
He turned toward Ortiz.
“We need to call her.”
A floorboard creaked downstairs.
One of Julian’s security men shouted.
The back door slammed.
Ortiz ran.
They reached the porch too late.
A dark sedan was disappearing around the bend.
Someone else had been inside the farmhouse.
David looked back toward the room.
On the dusty floor where the dresser had stood was a fresh footprint.
Small.
A woman’s.
Then his phone buzzed.
Mia.
He answered immediately.
“Dad?”
Her voice was frightened.
“What happened?”
“Grandma Evelyn is here.”
David’s stomach dropped.
“What does she want?”
Mia whispered.
“She says Mom asked her to take us somewhere safe.”
David looked at Julian.
His brother’s expression was unreadable.
“Do not go anywhere with her.”
There was a muffled sound.
Then Evelyn’s voice came through the phone.
“David, stop frightening your daughter.”
“Mom, get out of my house.”
“She is my granddaughter.”
“Leave.”
“You are in no position to give orders.”
David’s voice hardened.
“Mia, take Ethan upstairs and lock the bedroom door.”
Evelyn spoke again.
“David.”
“What?”
“You found Box 214, didn’t you?”
He went completely still.
Evelyn chuckled softly.
May you like
“You see? Sarah was never as clever as she thought.”
Then the call ended.
